


Heartbreaker

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-24
Updated: 1999-12-24
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: After COTW, Ray returns to Chicago and mulls over his situation.





	Heartbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

Heartbreaker

# Heartbreaker

  
**by Blarney Stone**

Rated Nc-17  
Disclaimer: Due South belongs to Alliance, not me. no copyright infringement is intended.   
  
*****************************************************  
  
Well, he got the desk anyway. In the last few months his whole life had gone from unbelievable joy to unbearable misery, but at least he could toss candy wrappers in the drawers of his desk without the fear that Vecchio would come back and break his skinny neck for messing up his stuff.   
  
Vecchio would not be coming back to Chicago. At least, not to work; maybe to visit the family. He didn't really know where the two of them were planning to go. He had been too busy collecting his things and getting the hell out of there.   
  
He glanced through the pile of messages from Stella. None of them asked about him, or what he had been up to during the months that he had been gone. They all asked about Vecchio; did he know where he was, was he all right, would he be coming back soon.   He crumbled them up into a ball and pitched them into the trash.  
  
None of the other detectives paid any attention to him They, of course, had no idea what had happened. They assumed that he had just been off on another adventure with Fraser. He saw no reason to explain anything to them. In fact, it would be a whole lot easier to work here if nobody knew. And the job and the desk were the only things that he had left.   
  
Strange to think that only a few months ago, he had truly believed that he had found what he had been looking for all his life.   
  
Fraser and he were waiting out a particularly nasty blizzard in a cabin that belong to one of Fraser's weird friends, who as luck would have it, was doing time for poaching. The cabin had a wood burning stove and for the first time since this adventure began he was really warm. Not that he was complaining. These were the happiest days of his life and they were about to get happier.   
  
Fraser spread out furs on the floor. There was no bed, but that was okay, he was getting used to sleeping wherever and whenever they had the oppotunity. Fraser looked at him with those innocent blue eyes and said his name, "Ray?"   
  
Ray knew what he wanted. He had known it since Fraser had first suggested that they go in search of the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort sea. That had been three weeks ago. They hadn't found any hands, but they had grown closer. Fraser had treated him like a dog that had been kicked around too many times and had to be slowly coaxed into trusting human contact again. They had been sleeping together, chastely, since they had started out. He had too quickly gotten used to sleeping wrapped in Fraser's arms, safe from the cold, and the cruelties of life.   
  
He walked over, and stood looking down at Fraser. "I haven't done this before. I mean, not with another guy," he said, not adding that he had thought about it alot, especially since meeting a certain mountie.  
  
Fraser took his hand and pulled him down to sit beside him. "I know, Ray."   
  
One hand carefully stroked his face, and Ray closed his eyes, as Fraser leaned in for a kiss. Their lip brushed and Fraser whispered, "You can tell me to stop if you want me to."   
  
Not daring to open his eyes, he answered, "Don't stop, don't ever stop."   
  
They kissed again; Fraser's tongue gently, yet firmly demanding entrance to his mouth. It was given. The taste of Fraser overwhelmed him, as it had once before on a sinking freighter. This time it was accompanied by the clean, piney scent of the man. His arms wound around Fraser's neck and his mind screamed, "Never, never let go."  
  
Fraser's hands worked quickly and efficiently undoing buttons, snaps, zippers and anything else that got in the way. As the layers of clothes fell away, Ray finally dared to look at Fraser. His eyes were full of passion, and determination, but still so . .gentle. That was the word to describe him. With a small cry of desire, he attacked Fraser's mouth, while his hands clumsily attempted to yank the mountie's clothes off. Fraser lifted him up to slide his pants down his thin hips, then he lowered him down on the furs.   
  
Watching his soon-to-be lover remove the rest of his clothes, Ray marvelled at the well-muscled chest and thighs, and wondered, not for the first time, why Fraser would want his undernourished body. But he did, and that was all that mattered.   
  
"Ray, " Fraser breathed. bending to trace a line of kisses down his chest, moving ever lower.  
  
As Fraser finally reached his swollen shaft, and ran his tongue along the length of it, memories of every time that he had stood by watching Fraser lick or put something strange into his mouth filled his head, and he knew that this was what he had wanted from the start.  
  
Kissing the tip first, with a mischievious glint in his eyes, Fraser took the shaft into his mouth, and began to suck. He was rewarded with a strangled gasp of pleasure from his partner, who eagerly began to thrust into that warm, wet paradise. After an eternity, Ray cried out, "Fraser!" and climaxed.   
  
Releasing the now limp member, Fraser laid his head on Ray's stomach and waited for his breathing to calm. Ray stroked his hair and finally whispered, "Do you want me to. .?"   
  
Fraser smiled at the uncertainty in his lover's voice. Ray was completely out of his element. He lifted up and gazed into the other's eyes. He saw willingness there and a real desire to please. He said, "No, Ray. That's not what I want." First confusion, then comprehension filled Ray's eyes.   
  
Without a word, Ray turned over onto his stomach. Fraser whispered, "Are you sure?"   
  
"Yes," was the barely audible reply. Warm hands and warm kisses worked their way along his back and hips. Then a moment of seperation, and Fraser's fingers covered in something sticky made their way between his cheeks, and into the the tight passage. Ray was absolutely certain that he didn't want to know what substance Fraser was generously coating him with. Completing this task. Fraser turned him on his side and stretched out his body alongside him. His mouth was next to Ray's ear, whispering, "Everything will be all right. I promise."  
  
Ray felt an intense pressure as Fraser slowly pushed his engorged shaft into the small opening. He bit back a cry of pain, knowing that Fraser would stop if he thought he was hurting him. Is this what it feels like to be a virgin?, Ray thought, and then had to fight back the urge to giggle.   
  
Meanwhile, Fraser's hand had found Ray's cock, and the barest touch had caused a renewed erection. Whispering in the Inuit language into Ray's ear, Fraser began to thrust in earnest, working the thin body mercilessly.   
  
The two moved together, caught in their own private world of pleasure, until with a wordless cry from Ray and and untelligible one from Fraser, they exploded into a million wonderful pieces.   
  
Sometime later, as they lay stil entwined and half-asleep, Ray said, "I love you, Fraser."  
  
"I've always loved you Ray. I never stopped," was the sleepy reply.   
  
Two more glorious months were spent together, exploring every possible way that two bodies could become one. Then one bright, lovely summer morning. Fraser and Ray found themselves in Moosejaw. Fraser hoped to question a local named Hatfield, who might have some information that could help them find the remains of Franklin.  
  
As they made their way along the street, a familair voice sounded from behind. "Hello Benny." Fraser stopped in his tracks; his mouth working, but not sound coming out. Ray looked into his eyes, and what he saw there caused his whole world to collapse. He turned around and faced Vecchio, who looked even sillier dressed in flannel than he did. Fraser stood rooted to the spot unable to move.  
  
Vecchio smiled, "Did you find it yet?"   
  
"Find what?" Ray asked numbly.   
  
"The bony hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaumont sea." Vecchio's eyes drilled a hole in Fraser's back, but still the mountie didn't turn around.   
  
"Beaufort," Ray said without enthusiasm.   
  
"Benny, aren't you gonna even look at me after I've come all this way?" Vecchio's voice took on a pleading quaity. When he got no response, he turned his attention to Ray. "Look Kowalski, I gotta be honest with you. I've been sleeping with your ex. It was just a fling and it's over now. I hope you understand."   
  
"Yeah, oh yeah, I understand," Ray said, and he did. All too well. "You guys probably want to talk, so I'm gonna go grab a beer. I'll see you later Fraser." With that he walked across the street and into a bar. After paying for his beer, he found a seat by the window and watched the reunion take place.  
  
For awhile Vecchio continued to speak to Fraser's back. Then at last the mountie faced his former partner. Ray couldn't hear what was being said, but he didn't need to.  
  
At last, Fraser and Vecchio parted and Fraser headed for the bar. He sat down across from Ray and stared at his hands. "Ray, we have to talk," he finally said.  
  
"No we don't Fraser. I've pretty much got one this figured out."   
  
Fraser's eyes were filled with pain as he said, "I never meant to hurt you."   
  
"I know, that's just the way it works out sometimes." He stood up. "Well, I guess I better be getting back to Chicago. I hope they'll give me my job back."   
  
As he walked away, Fraser called, "I'm sorry, Ray."   
  
He turned around for one last look. "Bye Fraser."   
  
That had been a month and a half ago. Welsh and the others had welcomed him back. He spun them a story about how Fraser and he had roamed the Great White North for months looking for that stupid hand until he had had enough and returned to civilization. They had laughed at that. He told them that Fraser wouldn't be back any time soon; that he was too happy to be back among the moose and the caribou. He didn't mention a word about Vecchio.   
  
So here he was. He had his job and his desk back. He had an ex-wife and an ex-lover who's hearts both belonged to another man. He had lain in his bed every night since his returned and silently said to himself that he wished he had never met that mountie with his big blue eyes and his stupid Inuit stories, but he knew it wasn't true.   
  
Grabbing his jacket, he said, "I'm going for lunch, if anybody's looking for me." But, of course, no one was.  
  
  
Return to Blarney's Fanfic Page   



End file.
